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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23181079">Together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostresidentevilpotter/pseuds/lostresidentevilpotter'>lostresidentevilpotter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Stranger (UK TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:00:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23181079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostresidentevilpotter/pseuds/lostresidentevilpotter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, it was just about making enough money to open their bar. Somehow, it became more than that. Chrissy/Ingrid.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Christine Killane &amp; Adam Price, Christine Killane | The Stranger/Ingrid Prisby, Christine Killane/Ingrid Prisby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Chrissy and Ingrid were obviously together (even though the show didn't seem interested in making that explicit) so I wrote this real quick, because someone had to. I will be incredibly surprised if anyone reads this, but if you're here, I hope you enjoy it!</p>
<p>(Also I'd just like to point out that I'm not British, but I did my best.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chrissy Killane moves in with Ingrid for lack of better options, really. Neither can afford to live alone. They’re both young. Ingrid has a degree and gets a job without much difficulty, but it still doesn’t pay well enough. Chrissy job hops for a while, bringing in enough money to pay her half of the rent and buy groceries. An older guy tips particularly well one night at the restaurant, and Chrissy uses the extra money to buy a cheap bottle of whiskey. It’s late when she gets home, but she flings the door open with no regard for the fact that Ingrid’s passed out on the couch. It bangs against the wall, and Ingrid startles awake, nearly falling to the ground.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chrissy! What the –”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy holds the bottle up and smiles. In spite of the horrendous hangover she wakes up with in the morning, she remembers the most important part of that night. It’s the first time they pitch the idea of opening their own beach bar. It’s a nice thought. It was an especially nice thought when Chrissy was actually still drunk. Chrissy never deludes herself into believing it’s a realistic idea, but she also doesn’t allow herself to squash Ingrid’s hopes. Ingrid’s desk job with that detective agency isn’t the most exciting job in the world, so Chrissy figures she’s got to give Ingrid something to look forward to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Chrissy gets fired from the restaurant the next week. That does more to crush Ingrid’s hopes about the bar more than Chrissy sobering up and telling her it’s not realistic ever could. It’s the fourth time Chrissy’s been fired this year, and it’s only April.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy tells herself she’ll get her shit together. For Ingrid more than for herself. Well, a little bit for herself, because Chrissy’s starting to feel like she’s a shitty friend. Since she was fired, she can’t make her half of the rent for May, and Ingrid pulls the difference from her savings account without hesitation. The next month, Ingrid gets promoted. Gets a real office instead of a cubicle and a hefty pay raise to go with it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy gets fired again. That customer deserved to be bitched out, though, so this one, Chrissy doesn’t regret.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(It does hurt, a little, when she tells Ingrid what happened and Ingrid isn’t surprised. Or upset. She shrugs it off, like <em>it’s happened once, it’ll happen again</em>. Chrissy tells herself she’s going to do better.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy finds a job at a nearby movie theater. It’s mind-numbing work, but the pay’s decent. She keeps her head down, and she keeps the job. She manages to pay Ingrid back for the rent she missed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(It’s annoying that she has to force Ingrid to take the money, stuffing the wad of cash into Ingrid’s bag when she isn’t looking.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The only downside to this job turns out to be the dickhead cashier. He hits on Chrissy on her first day and doesn’t give up until she agrees to get a coffee with him. She thinks his name is Johnny and only finds out it’s actually Jason when he receives his coffee from the barista. He’s no less of a dickhead outside of work, turns out. Chrissy can’t stop herself from looking him up when she gets home. Ingrid’s still at work, so there’s no one breathing down her neck while she sits in front of the computer and digs up all of Jason’s life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Maybe she learned a few things from her dad after all. She gains access to information she definitely shouldn’t be allowed to have, prints it off, and drops it on her manager’s desk as she’s leaving work the next day. She doesn’t see Jason again.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Other than that, Chrissy keeps to herself at the theater. She even wins employee of the month, but that’s just because the rest of her coworkers are too caught up with their own drama to do their jobs properly half the time. Employee of the month comes with a one hundred pound bonus, and Chrissy grins when she shows Ingrid the bill and shoves it into the jar they’d set aside to collect funds for their dream bar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(The hundred pounds comes out of the jar the next month – and then some – when Chrissy blows her tire out. Totally an accident, but it sets them back nonetheless.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid gets a cat. Chrissy comes home one day, and there’s a cat stretched out on her bed. The joke ends up being on Ingrid; Oliver likes Chrissy much better, and Chrissy comes around pretty quickly to the idea of having a pet, as long as Ingrid does all the dirty work.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy doesn’t remember meeting Ingrid for the first time, so it’s not surprising she also doesn’t remember if she’s always been in love with her or if this is a recent development. As soon as she’s consciously aware of how she feels, she knows she won’t be able to keep it to herself for long. They talk about everything. There aren’t any secrets between them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(And Chrissy wouldn’t have it any other way, but this puts her in a particularly difficult situation.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s kind of funny, how it all works out in the end. Ingrid only agrees to help Chrissy expose strangers’ secrets for money because she’d do anything for Chrissy. And Ingrid truly believes it’s about the bar they’re going to open. At first. She believes Chrissy when she says <em>just one more. It’ll be the last one</em>, even though this always turns out to be a lie. But Ingrid’s always at her side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s even funnier that Chrissy can’t see how in love Ingrid is with her before Chrissy lets her own feelings come tumbling out of her mouth one night when they’re both drunk. In the morning, when Chrissy wakes up with a killer headache in a bed that isn’t hers, she wonders how she couldn’t see what was right in front of her this entire time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t mean to use Ingrid’s feelings to her advantage. Really. But Chrissy knows she can’t expose secrets on her own. The money keeps Ingrid in it for a while. Within a few months, they have enough money for the bar and for a new place, if they felt like moving. If they wanted to haul all their expensive equipment down three flights of stairs, and if they wanted to rent a truck to move all their shit, and if they had time to go house hunting and –</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You get the point. They don’t move. Chrissy buys 900 thread count sheets, because now she can, and maybe that’s when Ingrid realizes it’s not about the bar anymore. Or maybe she’s had her suspicions for a while.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Even Ingrid has to admit, the sheets are nice.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid gets up the courage to ask one night. She’s only awake because it’s absolutely pouring outside, and thunder booms every couple minutes. Oliver’s frightened, curled up between Ingrid and Chrissy on the 900 thread count sheets. He jumps with every clap of thunder, and Ingrid combs her fingers through his fur absently each time. Chrissy’s back is to her, but there’s no way she’s asleep. Not with the jittery cat, and not with Ingrid’s newfound insomnia.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why are we still doing this?” Ingrid asks, just loud enough to be heard over the rain pounding on the roof. Chrissy rolls onto her back, eyebrows pulled together. Oliver springs up at the sudden movement, and Ingrid impatiently nudges him away from her face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you talking about?” Chrissy yawns. She pats the center of her chest, inviting Oliver to climb up on her, even if he’ll leave her tank top full of cat fur.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know what I’m talking about. The secrets. Why are we still doing it? Putting ourselves at risk – Jesus, Chris, that guy almost decked you the other day.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy smirks. “But he missed, didn’t he?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That isn’t the point, and you know it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy scratches Oliver’s ears, lips still twisted into a smirk. “This is, like, our thing,” she says. “We get paid to expose the truth.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We have enough money to open two bars,” Ingrid says flatly. “And we could own an actual house, and a new car. I could quit my day job – and so could you – but instead we’re still here. Living in a shitty apartment, raking money in but not spending any of it. Except on these goddamn sheets.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’re nice sheets.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid sighs, because she can’t really argue with that. “I just – I thought the point of this was making enough money so we could open the bar and…I don’t know. Settle down.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy’s eyebrows raise. There’s another boom of thunder, and Oliver launches himself off Chrissy’s chest and goes to burrow under the bed. Chrissy shifts onto her side facing Ingrid and props her head up on her hand. “You want to settle down?” Chrissy teases.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, shut up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m being serious.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid rolls her eyes. “We should go to sleep –”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, come on,” Chrissy says. She knocks her hand into Ingrid’s arm. “Tell me. You want a house in the suburbs? Three kids, two cats, and a minivan?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut <em>up</em>, oh my God,” Ingrid groans. She presses the heels of her hands against her eyes as Chrissy laughs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean, come on. You don’t really strike me as the type to want that sort of thing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t want that exactly,” Ingrid says. “But a little more stability would be nice.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ve got over three hundred grand in the bank,” Chrissy replies. “We’re pretty stable.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Financial stability isn’t everything, Christine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, but it’s a start,” Chrissy says. “Look, if you want out, just say the word.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid presses her lips together, and for what feels like forever, they stare into each other’s eyes. Because she knows what happens if she says she wants out. Chrissy will do it on her own, no matter how stupid and dangerous that would be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know I can’t let you do this alone,” Ingrid says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You could.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And what would that make me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A terrible girlfriend?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Exactly,” Ingrid mutters. She throws the 900 thread count sheets back and starts to get up before Chrissy reaches over and snags her arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where are you going?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need water.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(She needs space. If she puts enough physical space between her and Chrissy, she’ll be able to think straight again.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid takes her time walking to the kitchen, getting a glass of water, and drinking it. Chrissy watches her, at first, before she takes an interest in trying to persuade Oliver to get out from under the bed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(It’s nearing three a.m. At this point, she really should just let him be. The thunder won’t stop anytime soon.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid sets her glass in the sink, runs her hand through her hair. She glances toward her room, toward the bed she hasn’t slept in for the past few months, because Chrissy thinks her mattress is too hard.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(She’s right, though. Chrissy’s mattress is much better for her back.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy manages to pull Oliver out and dumps him back on the bed. She swears he shoots her a disgruntled look before he claims his spot where Chrissy had previously been laying.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know you did that on purpose,” Chrissy says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you scolding the cat?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s three in the morning. Cut me some slack,” Chrissy says with a crooked smile. She makes her way around the bed, holds her arms out and wiggles her fingers. As expected, Ingrid steps into the offered embrace, rests her chin on Chrissy’s shoulder. Chrissy rubs her hand up and down Ingrid’s back and murmurs, “If you really want to quit, we can. There are just a few loose ends we need to tie up, and we can open the bar and move to the suburbs and have ten kids or whatever.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ten?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m kidding, love. That’d be ridiculous. We’ll have ten cats instead.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid laughs and barely manages to say, “No,” before Chrissy kisses her. Chrissy pulls away, gets back into bed. She’s stuck in the middle now that Oliver’s refusing to give up his spot on Chrissy’s usual side, and she falls asleep quickly with her arm locked around Ingrid’s waist, her chest steadily rising and falling against Ingrid’s back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Ingrid doesn’t sleep. The rain stops, and Oliver eventually leaves for the wide open bed in the other room. Chrissy doesn’t move into the newly opened space, continues to cling to Ingrid as she sleeps. But Ingrid can’t shut her brain off, can’t shake the feeling that Chrissy still wouldn’t quit even if she asked her to.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid tasers a grown man after he slams Chrissy’s face into a brick wall. She doesn’t talk to Chrissy most of the way home, doesn’t talk to her as she busts out the first aid kit and makes sure Chrissy’s nose hasn’t been broken. Doesn’t talk to her as she cleans up the blood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Ingrid finally breaks her silence, she blurts, “You went too far again, didn’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I just told him the truth.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, and that’s why he bashed your face in. He was ready to kill you, Chris.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But did he?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He could have! If I hadn’t been there –”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, it’s a good thing you were there, then,” Chrissy says. She smiles gently then winces, accepting the bag of ice Ingrid holds out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But I don’t want to be,” Ingrid says. She shakes her head. “I’m done.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ingrid –”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I mean it. I’ve stayed because this is what you want to do, but I can’t take it anymore. We’ve got plenty of money. We can disappear in the world now, but you won’t. You keep searching for lives to ruin, and I’m done being a part of it. So you can keep exposing secrets, or you can keep me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy’s jaw hangs open, and for once in her life, she’s actually speechless. She lowers the ice from her face, locking eyes with Ingrid. “You’re leaving me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. I’m leaving this – this game you’ve been playing with all these strangers. And if you want to keep playing it…I know I can’t stop you. So go ahead, but I won’t be part of it anymore. There’s more than enough money in the account. I’ll manage.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I can’t just drop it!” Chrissy argues. She gets to her feet, throwing the ice onto the table. “There are too many loose ends, too many open cases.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then tie up the loose ends, and close all of the current cases,” Ingrid says. “No more new targets, or I’m out. And I’ll take Oliver, too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy presses her lips together, but that hurts her face. She picks the ice back up and goes over to lay in bed and let the ice rest on her aching face. Ingrid goes out on the balcony to stress smoke half a pack of cigarettes, and Chrissy accidentally falls asleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(She wakes up in the middle of the night with a room temperature bag of water resting on her face. Oliver’s stretched out next to her, fast asleep. Chrissy sits up, squinting through the darkness, and she can just barely make out Ingrid’s figure buried beneath the covers of her own bed on the other side of the room.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“God, what did you do?” Chrissy mutters to herself. She doesn’t remember the last time Ingrid slept in her own bed. They’ve been together less than a year, but it feels like a lot longer. She gets up to get rid of the bag of water and to take a couple ibuprofen in hopes that it’ll mostly stop her face from hurting. When she returns to bed, Oliver decides he’s been jostled around enough and hops down, going to join Ingrid instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>I’ll close these cases</em> Chrissy tells herself. <em>And then I’m done. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>(She tells herself she means it this time.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy’s dealt with a lot of shit the past few weeks. Getting her face smashed into a brick wall, finding out her father’s not really her father, and nearly being left altogether by Ingrid. It’s a lot to process even before she learns that the man that raised her killed her mother. Learning that she has a half-brother isn’t exactly helpful, either.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(She’s really dug herself into a deep hole this time. She doesn’t even know where to begin to get herself back out.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe none of that stuff matters when Ingrid gets shot. Time stops. The fact that there’s a gun pointed at Chrissy’s head doesn’t stop her from rushing to Ingrid’s side. Blood pours out of the wound, and Chrissy doesn’t know the first thing about first aid, but she knows the bleeding’s got to stop if Ingrid’s going to live.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(And damn it, she’s going to live. Chrissy will never be able to forgive herself if Ingrid dies. Ingrid didn’t even want this. Ingrid told her to quit, but she just <em>had </em>to see the whole Adam Price mess through, didn’t she?)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m so sorry,” Chrissy barely manages to whisper. Tears blur her vision, and Ingrid has just enough energy to nod in acknowledgement. The gun goes off again, somewhere behind them, but Chrissy doesn’t even flinch, just holds steady pressure to the wound in Ingrid’s stomach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Chrissy can’t bring herself to look at it again. She can feel the blood covering her hands, knows it’s soaked into the front of Ingrid’s shirt. But she doesn’t look away from Ingrid’s face.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Someone runs out of the apartment, and Chrissy closes her eyes. She expects she’ll be shot next.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello? Yes, I – I need an ambulance. Quickly. There’s a girl – she’s been shot. She’s bleeding.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy exhales in relief, opens her eyes. Adam’s called an ambulance. She tells herself this means everything’s going to be okay.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Turns out <em>okay </em>is a relative term. Ingrid lives, and Chrissy spends almost every waking moment at her side until she’s discharged from the hospital. She only goes home because someone’s got to look after Oliver.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(And Ingrid told her to shower and change into clean clothes, promised she’d still be in the same spot when Chrissy got back.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy mails Adam a card to express sympathy over the fate of his wife. It’s a genuine gesture, and it takes her two hours to write four sentences in the card. She signs it <em>CK</em> and hopes he’ll know who it’s from.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(She doesn’t write a return address on the envelope. She doesn’t think she’ll be at her current place long enough to receive mail, anyway.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before she brings Ingrid home, she gets rid of the unnecessary technology. She considers selling it for half a second, but it’s safer to destroy it. And besides, it’s not like they need the money.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Sometimes, mostly late at night, Chrissy feels guilty about the source of their fortune. She’ll find a way to live with it, just like she’ll find a way to live with the fact that she nearly got the love of her life killed.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy buys a diamond. Nothing overly flashy but still respectable. She leaves the box sitting open on the kitchen table the day before they’re set to pack all their things up to move, because Chrissy isn’t good at this kind of shit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Ingrid says yes. After all they’ve been through, how could she not? Especially now that all that shit’s over.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They open the beach bar. Adam’s there the first night to congratulate them, and he insists on paying for his drink, making him their official first paying customer. He says he wishes he could’ve brought the two boys, but it <em>is </em>a bar, after all. Chrissy had watched her nephew’s (that’s still such a strange thing to say) football match from afar, but she hasn’t actually met them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(She could’ve stood with Adam and their father to watch the match, if she wanted. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Besides, she’s not sure their father would appreciate that very much.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Um, hey,” Chrissy says before Adam can leave. He’s got his jacket half on, but he pauses and turns back to meet Chrissy’s gaze. “Uh, so Ingrid and I are kind of getting married soon –”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kind of?” Ingrid teases from behind the bar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re getting married,” Chrissy says. “And it’d be great if you could come. And it’s totally cool if you can’t – I just thought I’d ask.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To her relief, Adam grins, congratulates them, and tells her to send an invitation. Chrissy worries about whether or not to include her nephews – she’s not even sure they’ve been told about her. She sends Adam an invitation with a small note saying he’s welcome to bring his sons if he wants.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(And a plus one. Just in case he’s dating again. Chrissy restrains herself from doing any digging into his life. She’ll just have to come up with the courage to ask him sometime.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ingrid grunts and rolls over. “Hmm?” she says, barely awake.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Chrissy repeats. “Everything that happened when we were – it’s all my fault.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s okay,” Ingrid says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, it’s not –”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I forgive you, Chris,” Ingrid cuts in. “Now can we go to sleep? We’re getting married tomorrow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrissy’s surprised that Adam agrees to come to the wedding, but she’s extra surprised that he brings her nephews. She still isn’t sure if they know who she is; she assumes Adam’s just told them that she’s one of his friends. But Adam hugs her and waves Thomas and Ryan forward.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Go hug your aunt,” Adam says, and Chrissy’s lucky she doesn’t burst into tears then and there. She can’t ruin her makeup before she’s even officially married.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(“I’m not good, you know, at the whole <em>being a family </em>thing,” Chrissy admits to Adam later in the night, after she’s had a few drinks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Luckily, I am,” Adam replies, and they both laugh and order another drink.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s years later, while Chrissy’s eating the usual weekly meal at Adam’s house with Ingrid, Thomas, Ryan, and Adam’s girlfriend, when Chrissy realizes this somehow became normal, and it took her years to notice the change in her life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wouldn’t trade it for anything.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I couldn't help it and had to have some kind of a happy ending. Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! I should be back to writing my usual FTWD stuff soon!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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